


Samosaur and the Evanses

by strictlybecca



Category: Glee
Genre: Children, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, adorableness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-24
Updated: 2011-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-26 12:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strictlybecca/pseuds/strictlybecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cowboy boots and little siblings and Sam pretending to be a dinosaur. Oh, and Kurt falls more in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Samosaur and the Evanses

**Author's Note:**

> This was written pre-meeting Stevie and Stacy Evans, so my Evans bbs are larger in number and different in name.
> 
> Written for Grace's birthday.

Kurt’s picking Sam up this time for their date because apparently Sam’s truck is making a disturbing whining noise and his mom isn’t letting him drive it til they get it checked out. Kurt would offer his dad’s services for a reduced rate, but he’s a little bit of persona non grata in the Evans household - mostly because Mr. Evans thinks Kurt is working some powerful gay magic and forcing his son to like guys. Kurt wouldn’t generally mind the idea that he has supernatural powers beyond the ken of any normal human being, but he can’t stem the fury that rises every time Sam makes his  _no i swear i’m okay it’s just my only father who hates me right now but no i’m good let’s go get breadstix_ face.

When Kurt pulls up and texts Sam - because the last time he’d knocked on the door and Sam’s dad had made him stand on the porch in the rain while he waited; Sam had thundered downstairs with only one shoe on the second he realized, but that had only meant both of them got soaked - he gets an immediate reply back.

 _cmon in its jst me & the kids bbystters duein 5 min_

Kurt smiles a little and slides from the inside of his baby to cross the street and slip inside the Evans’ house - door always unlocked because apparently Southern hospitality meant  _please rob me i beg of you_ to the Evanses.

He closes the door firmly behind him and peers around at the silent front hall - there’s no sign of any dirty blond heads, Sam-sized or otherwise. In fact, it’s completely silent, something Sam has constantly assured Kurt that his house never is. 

Just as Kurt is about to call out hesitantly for his boyfriend, the silence is broken by whooping and the noise of a thunderous stampede stomping down the stairs; Emma Evans, Sam’s younger sister, comes galloping into the main hall, shouting loudly and clutching what looks like cowboy boot to her chest. She freezes in front of Kurt, smiles widely, waves and then slip-slides her way down the hallway towards the kitchen, disappearing a moment later through the swinging door.

“Emmeline Sarah Evans, give me my goddamn boot back!” Sam’s voice calls from the top of the stairs. The stampeding sound is heard again, except louder this time, Sam thudding down the stairs after his little sister. He’s dressed in a plain white t-shirt, with a flannel blue shirt on one arm only, the other half of the shirt flaring out behind him. He’s got a sock in one hand, one foot bare and the other clad in a dark leather cowboy boot. “Emma, stop taking my stuff!” He shouts, pausing at the bottom of the staircase to hurriedly kick off his one boot and hop in a circle as he pulls on his other sock.

“Hi babe,” he huffs breathlessly in Kurt’s direction, pressing a quick kiss to Kurt’s cheek before tearing off down the hall in the direction Emma disappeared in. “Emma, I am going to find you and then forcefeed you bananas until you ralph everywhere if you don’t give me back that boot!” Emma groans at the word banana, which if Kurt remembers correctly, completely gross her out.

“You wouldn’t,” Emma taunts and Kurt can’t see them but he can guess how the showdown in the kitchen is going – Emma with her hands on her hips, clutching the one boot, Sam towering over her with a glower on his face, socks drooping pathetically.

“Hi,” comes a small voice from the stairs, drawing Kurt’s attention. The youngest Evans of all, Noah, stands at the top of the stairs, bare feet curling around the carpeted step as he wobbles there precariously.

“Hey buddy,” Kurt says in perfect mimicry of Sam’s soft way of speaking to his little brother. “Are you looking for Sam?” Noah nods furiously and starts his slow and careful descent down the stairs, one step at a time. His chubby child feet thump firmly on each step and Kurt finds himself crossing to the stairs to grab his hands on the last step. Noah giggles as Kurt swings him up and then sets him down in the same motion he’s seen Sam make about a million times. Noah will probably never learn to jump down off the bottom step of the stairs, which is too tall for him to step off of currently. Sam will always be there to catch him before he falls. Kurt refuses, through pure force of will, to let that idea make his heart beat any faster.

“Sammy?” Noah asks, blinking wide blue eyes up at Kurt – Sam’s eyes, Kurt thinks automatically – trusting in Kurt’s guidance to find his brother.

“In the kitchen,” Kurt says, moving to follow Noah down the hall, but suddenly Emma bursts out of the kitchen’s swinging door, gathering Noah up in her arms as she sprints back down the hall – Sam appearing immediately after, slipping a little in his socks.

Kurt watches in awe as Sam transforms from a slightly pissed big brother whose younger sister has yet again stolen his stuff into the doting older sibling whose only goal in life is to make his brother and sister laugh. The second Sam spots Noah with Emma, he becomes a lumbering dinosaur, half roaring, half growling. “Return the boy to me!” he cries, stumbling down the hallway after Emma, who screeches at a decibel never before registered on Earth and starts running for the stairs. “He is mine to eat!” Sam cries again, barely registering over the volume of Noah’s giggles as he clings to his older sister. “Feed me the little boy!”

“No! You can’t have him!” Emma squeals, ducking under Sam’s outstretched arms to lunge for the living room – she’s too slow though and Sam catches his two younger siblings up in his arms and makes devouring noises – or at least, noises that sound like he’s enjoying the meal of small children thoroughly despite their crazed laughter. The Evans trio tumbles to the floor, the two youngest pinning Sam as he tickles them madly.

“Don’t eat Noah, don’t eat Noah!” Noah chants over and over again, wriggling and giggling until Kurt’s clutching his sides to keep himself upright through his laughter.

“Mmmm, tasty Noah,” Sam says, blowing a raspberry on Noah’s forehead. “Now let Samosaur up so he can turn back into regular old Sam.”

Noah shoots off the ground like a bullet and stares wide-eyed down at his brother. “Can I wear your boots Sammy?” Sam nods and motions Emma to help him stand, which she does, pretending to huff and puff as she tugs at his hand and helps him up. With graceful motions that say this is not a unique happening in the Evans household, Emma fetches the two boots that began this whole mess and settles them beside each other. Sam lifts Noah under his armpits and settles him into the boots, letting him wobble down the hall and trailing after him humming the theme from the Magnificent Seven.

Kurt watches them go, viciously stamping down on the part of his heart that was swooning and sighing at the sight of his boyfriend being so adorable. The idea of kids was so far in the future it was practically non-existent – but apparently his non-existent biological clock didn’t really seem to care about this notice. It had started ticking the second he caught Sam making chipmunk faces at his siblings through the windows on his mom’s mini van weeks ago.

“They’re silly,” Emma says with a scoff – a rather impressive one too, Kurt notices. It had taken him at least a year or two longer to summon a scoff so indifferent and blasé. Emma was making good progress.

“More than a little,” Kurt agrees and Emma beams up at him, sliding closer.

Kurt’s first instinct is to recoil since small children automatically equal sticky hands and this shirt is at least worth half of his dad’s last paycheck but all of a sudden Emma freezes about three inches from Kurt. “Those pants are really pretty,” she said earnestly, staring at the sparkles as if completely entranced. And the thing is, Kurt thinks, utterly charmed, these pants  _are_  really pretty and at least  _one_ Evans has good enough taste to recognize it.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling slightly. Emma raises both her palms above her head, showing them to Kurt. He blinks at her, puzzled for a moment before she sighs impatiently, shaking her hands in Kurt’s face.

“I just washed ‘em,” she says, nearly vibrating in place with excitement, “So can I touch the sparkles?” Kurt is stunned for a moment, but then recalls his own excitement about playing with the embroidered bits on the pants and offers an awkward smile instead. Her hands  _are_

“Sure,” he says, canting out a leg and letting Emma trace the swirling design with a look of pure glee on her face.

“Emma, stop petting my boyfriend,” Sam says as he enters the room a moment later, smiling even as Emma whirls angrily on him.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” she replies in the voice that every pre-teen girl before her has used in a fit of pique.

“Since Jenna the babysitter just cancelled, putting me in charge, that’s actually exactly what I get to do,” Sam says with a smug smile. “So stop petting my boyfriend and go make sure Noah doesn’t kill himself in my boots.” Emma huffs off but not without one last touch of the soft embroidery. She moves to exit dramatically with a flounce that Kurt recognizes as one that he himself has used on his father many times before freezing and spinning on her heel.

“Thank you for letting me pet your pants,” Emma parrots politely, smiling before disappearing into the next room. Kurt glances up towards his boyfriend, who looks immediately penitent.

“I’m really sorry but the babysitter just called and there’s no way I can leave these two alone because Emma can barely enter a room without setting something on fire and god, I cannot let my sister set my brother on fire and I’m really sorry Kurt and-” Sam looks as if he could babble on for hours, so Kurt kindly puts him out of his misery with a single finger pressed against those wide, perfect lips.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Kurt says with a smile that’s only the tiniest bit disappointed. “I guess I’ll call you later, or you can call me and-”

“Unless you want to stay,” Sam interrupts in a rush, looking embarrassed at even the thought of thinking Kurt would want to stay and hang out with him and his little siblings. “I mean, you don’t have to, I know it gets messy and isn’t really what we planned, so really, feel free to go home, you absolutely don’t have to stay, I mean-”

Kurt watches as Noah tries to stride around the room in his brother’s cowboy boots, which are as tall as his whole body. Kurt watches as Emma carefully trails behind him, occasionally nudging him hard enough to send him wobbling and giggling and screaming in joyful terror. Then Kurt watches the pure happiness on his boyfriend’s face as he observes his siblings, and realizes that as much as Sam’s parents have made it fairly clear that Kurt is not welcome in their home and in their family, there is still a part of Sam’s family who love him just as they had before Kurt was in the picture and would go on forever loving in him the same exact way even after Kurt left. If Kurt left.

“No!” Kurt interrupts hurriedly before he knows what’s leaving his mouth. “No, I want to stay. I’d… I’d really like that.” He would say that the smile on Sam’s mouth was worth all the uncertainty, but that would be sappy.

And still true.


End file.
